


Familia Supra Omnia

by wintergrey



Series: Vade Mecum [6]
Category: Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cohabitation, Commitment, Family, Friendship, Love, M/M, Meddling, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintergrey/pseuds/wintergrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Family above all.</i>
</p><blockquote>
  <p>“Family’s a hard enough thing to negotiate when you know what it’s supposed to look like,” Rhodes says quietly. “Harder when you don’t have a clue. Even harder when you’re trying to make one out of gods, geniuses, monsters, and heroes. People are bound to fuck it up at some point and if someone’s gonna fuck a thing up, Tony is first in line. With the best of intentions in one hand and his checkbook in the other.”</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Familia Supra Omnia

A knock at the door startles Sam out of the funk of staring at bills. Being a counsellor and an unpaid superhero of a sort is not the kind of job that will keep you in the black, not even where Sam lives. Steve would help out, of course he would, but they’re not officially living together—and there’s another thing Sam wishes would magically resolve itself. His parents would help, too, but again he doesn’t want to ask. He checks the recycling bin on the way to the door, expecting kids from down the hall on a bottle drive or something like it at this hour on a weekday.

“Sam Wilson?” The man at the door is older than Sam, with piercing dark eyes that rake Sam head to toe as he pushes his extremely recognizable sunglasses up onto his head. He’s got a phone in one hand and he compares the image there to what’s in front of him. “Yep, that’s you. Great, let’s talk.”

“Can I help you, Mr. Stark?”

“Tony, Tony, call me Tony. We’re practically family.” Tony Stark slides right past Sam and inside, rattling on without a hitch. “Nice place you have here, cozy. Don’t mind me, just getting a feel for what your needs are and I mean that in the least suggestive of all possible terms.”

“Uh. Come in.” Sam closes the door behind him. “I wasn’t expecting company. Can I get you some coffee?”

“No, no, don’t want to impose.” Tony’s already in the kitchen. “Just wanted a word.”

“You can have as many as you need,” Sam says, following as far as the kitchen doorway. Tony’s wearing a rumpled suit that probably costs more than Sam makes in a month and he’s unshaven but he doesn’t smell of alcohol or look high. Sam’s a pretty good judge of these things. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s what I can do for you.” Tony finally focuses on Sam again and now he hesitates, one finger raised and pointed at Sam. “I just want you to know for the record that this was significantly less awkward when it was happening in my head. But, hey. You’re here, I’m here, let’s do this thing.” His phone rings but he just scowls at it and taps the screen so that the message turns off.

“Of course, that seems like the rational thing to do.” Sam’s trying not to laugh at the same time that he’s a little concerned about having a possibly-manic billionaire in his kitchen.

“I see why Steve likes you so much. Good looking. Reasonable but flexible. Not that he’s said anything about your actual flexibility, he doesn’t tell me anything about his personal life. It would save me time and money if he did.” The phone rings again and this time Tony shoves it into a pocket. “I just wanted to extend, from me to you—” Tony gestures between them. “—an invitation to move into Stark Tower. Avengers Tower. Whatever the kids are calling it these days.”

“You want me to move in.” Sam keeps an eye on Tony as he slides over to pour himself a coffee. He could use it because he’s not entirely sure he’s awake. Also, Tony Stark apparently knows that Sam’s in a relationship with Captain America and Sam isn’t quite sure how this got to be his life.

“You can have your own place, I can renovate, whatever you need.” Tony seems absolutely sincere. On further observation, Sam’s seeing anxiety and urgency combined with a complete lack of social boundaries more than he’s seeing mania. “It’s just, you know. This HYDRA thing. And this Winter Soldier thing. I know I’m not really involved with the whole hero business, but it’s a matter of safety, I’m worried about you guys and not just because this place is really small for the two of you.” The phone rings again and Tony groans. “I have to take this, I’m very sorry. She just bought a helicopter and—”

The moment the phone is on, a bright and angry voice bursts out of the speaker to fill the room. “Tony Stark, are you where I told you not to go doing what I specifically told you not to do?”

“—if I don’t answer the phone she sends it after me like some unethical big game hunter,” Tony says loudly, projecting toward the phone in his hand. “Pepper, I’m already here, so just—”

“Oh, my God. You’re actually there? Mr. Wilson, this is Pepper Potts. If you can hear me I’m so sorry about this. This is completely inappropriate. And incredibly creepy. Tony, I told you not to do this.”

“Yes, you did, and I didn’t listen. Because you were wrong. Can you yell at me later, please, in private?” Tony gives Sam a tight smile. “I prefer that people not find out how incredibly dysfunctional we are until after they like us too much to run for their lives.”

“Fine. But there will be yelling, Tony. Lots of it.” Pepper subsides with a huff of frustration. “I have to tell the helicopter to turn around now.” With that, the line goes dead.

“Now, where were we?” Tony slips the phone away again as he picks up as though nothing happened. “Right, me asking you to move into the Tower. No rent. No pressure. Standing offer. You know, whatever you need. Car, dog walking service—” Tony looks around, frowning. “—you look like a dog type of guy, do you have a dog? Pets welcome, of course. You want a dog, we can go by the shelter or Pepper will get you one, she’s good at picking things out. Gym, track, you like to run, anything else you need I can totally work out.”

“That’s very generous of you, and I appreciate the offer, Tony.” Sam actually does. He thinks he’s got a handle on Tony already. He can spot PTSD from a mile away, anxiety, abandonment issues, maybe some lingering addictions, all the good stuff.

Tony’s not trying to buy him off or anything, the guy just doesn’t know how else to get what he needs so he can breathe. In fact, Sam would put money he doesn’t have on Tony not even knowing what he needs. He’s got the air of a man taking a run at anything that looks like it might hurt less in the moment.

“That’s something I’m going to have to talk to Steve about but I’ll think it over,” Sam says firmly.

“Okay. You’ll think it over, that’s good.” Tony backs off as soon as Sam puts down the boundary, which is good news, then exhales and relaxes visibly. “Um, let me…” He fumbles in his jacket pocket, comes out with a business card. “That’s me. Personal number.” He puts it down on the table. “Call if you have any questions, need anything.”

“Same to you.” Sam pulls one of his cards out of the holder on the fridge and puts it down on the table, then slides it toward Tony. “My number. You can call ahead next time, or if you’re looking for Steve. Or if you just want to chat.”

“Thanks.” Tony still sounds completely sincere. He picks up the card, then slides it into the same pocket as his phone. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be going now.” He points toward the door.

“I’ll see you out.” Sam walks that way with him.

“We’re good right?” Tony settles his sunglasses in place when Sam opens the door, then offers Sam his hand. “Are we good?”

“We’re good, man,” Sam assures him, shaking his hand. “Thanks for coming. Always good to meet Steve’s friends.”

“Any time.” Tony waves as he heads out. “And, if Pepper kills me for this, it was very nice to meet you, Sam.”

Well, that was interesting. Sam checks his watch. Interesting enough that he’s going to have to run to make it to group session this afternoon. He stops long enough to put Tony’s number in his phone before he goes. Never know when Tony Stark might come in handy in a pinch.

Afternoon session goes really well, the kind of day that makes Sam feel like he’s here in this world for a reason. Some tears, some laughter, some good news, some bad memories—that’s a good day as far as Sam’s concerned. He loves the people who come to the VA, from the bottom of his heart. Wherever he goes, he’s not giving this up.

He’s stacking chairs on a cart to roll them away when someone else lends a hand. All Sam sees at first is dark blue fabric and gold braid as the man stacks what looks to be the last of the chairs on the rest. The next thing Sam processes is the rank—Colonel.

“Sir,” he says before he even gets to the man’s face.

“Rhodey. Please.” Colonel James Rhodes offers Sam his hand and Sam stares for a moment before his home training kicks in and he takes it.

“Good to meet you, sir.” He can’t help the ‘sir’, it just comes out in the face of the uniform and the fact that Sam’s looking at one of the people he admires most in the military. “Can I help you? Is there a problem?”

“I’m not sure, I’m just here to make sure there isn’t one.” Rhodes rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, looking sheepish. “I came by to see a few soldiers, the usual visit, and Pepper asked me to apologize to you while I was here and make sure things were okay. I understand Tony came to see you today.”

“Oh, that.” Sam had forgotten that Tony and Rhodes are friends, it’s the weirdest of all possible combinations. But then again, it’s not as though Sam and Steve are the people you’d expect to end up together. “No harm done. Just a social call.”

“Tony can be a bit of an event.” Rhodes speaks as though he’s mincing his way through a minefield. He heads over to the beverage station that Sam hasn’t broken down yet, pours himself a cup of coffee. “Well, let’s be honest, more of a natural disaster. He just cares a little too much sometimes. I just wanted to make sure—Pepper and I wanted to make sure—he didn’t screw anything up for you, buy up your block and evict you, anything like that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for Tony.” Sam’s certain too many people are too skilled at that. “I’m a big boy, so’s he. He came by, I let him in, we talked, he left. It’s all good.”

“That’s good. All I got from Pepper was that Tony had come around to proposition you or propose to you or something on Steve’s behalf. In her words: creepy and inappropriate.” Rhodes makes a face at the coffee. “I take it Steve doesn’t know.”

“Haven’t spoken to him today.” Sam starts collecting stacks of reading material, filing them away for the next meeting. Heat creeps up the back of his neck as it dawns on him that the actual Colonel James Rhodes, decorated soldier, Iron Patriot, American hero, and all that knows Sam’s sleeping with Captain America. Or not sleeping—a lot of not sleeping is definitely going on. Because that’s not awkward at all.

“Family’s a hard enough thing to negotiate when you know what it’s supposed to look like,” Rhodes says quietly. “Harder when you don’t have a clue. Even harder when you’re trying to make one out of gods, geniuses, monsters, and heroes. People are bound to fuck it up at some point and if someone’s gonna fuck a thing up, Tony is first in line. With the best of intentions in one hand and his checkbook in the other.”

Sam forces his thoughts out of the pit of embarrassment yawning wide in his gut and actually looks at Rhodes again. Rhodes’ face is set in a mask of weariness and concern. His gaze is fixed somewhere else, beyond the door, beyond the field, locked into another time and place.

“Hey, man.” Sam crosses the room to put a hand on Rhodes’ arm, drawing him out of his thoughts and into the present. “It’s no big deal, really. Tony’s okay. Or… he’s not okay, but I get it. I didn’t go into this expecting functional people. I met Bucky—it’s all uphill from there.”

“Okay, yeah.” Rhodes laughs, patting Sam’s shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s best friend is a brainwashed super-soldier assassin, I guess everything else is good news.”

Boyfriend. Just like that. Easy-peasy. This might be Sam’s kind of family after all, weird as it is.

“By the way, if you hear anything about that—” Sam just has to get that in. No one’s giving up anything on Bucky, anywhere. He and Steve don’t talk about it but the dead ends haven’t been easy—which is why they don’t talk about it. “If you want to make it up to me about Tony trying to get me to move in with him,” he adds, grinning.

“I can’t give out classified information, you know that, soldier,” Rhodes says, shaking his head. “Wish I could help you out.”

“Can’t blame a brother for trying.” Sam holds up his hands.

“I completely respect that. I appreciate you not hacking my phone or slipping anything in my drink to get it out of me.” Rhodes’ expression is long-suffering—Sam realizes he’s not kidding. “You’re a breath of fresh air, man. But I’ve got to catch a plane, dinner in New York tonight.” He tosses his coffee cup in the trash, then offers Sam his hand again.

“Thanks for coming by. It was good to meet you.” Sam shakes Rhodes’ hand a second time. He’s getting a clearer picture of things by the minute.

“Hey.” Rhodes turns around just as he’s about to step out the door. “I get together with some friends for poker once in a while. Shoot the breeze, lose some money, all that. You should come by some time. You might learn something.” He settles his hat at the perfect angle with practiced precision and now he looks like the man Sam is used to seeing on television. “I’ve got your number.”

“You call, I’ll be there.” Sam has no illusions—Rhodes isn’t talking about poker at all. “You know where to reach us. Any time.”

“Keep up the good work, Sam. We need you,” Rhodes says, then follows it up with a wink and a fast grin. “When the time’s right, you’ll hear from me. Welcome to the family.” With that, he’s gone into the afternoon sunlight.

Sam packs up to go; with any luck he’ll get to see Steve tonight. It’s true what they say. You can pick your friends—or your boyfriend—but you can’t pick your family. And neither can your boyfriend. Sam isn’t sure Steve has any idea how much of a family he’s got here and now but, so far, it’s a good one.

“That didn’t actually happen.” Steve’s setting the table while Sam keeps an eye on the grill and fills him in on the day. Moments later, Steve comes out onto the balcony, his cheeks flaming. “Did that actually happen or are you just…”

“Happened.” Sam refrains from poking at the burgers to see how they’re doing—especially since he just put them on. His dad’s always riding him for that when they barbeque. He takes a swig of his beer instead and leans on the rail while he talks to Steve. “Tony Stark wants us to move in together. In New York.”

“We can’t—” Steve starts to say, but Sam waves him off.

“I know, Bucky’s missing and we can’t go anywhere until you find him. It’s okay, we’re staying here.” No question for Sam. Even if he could find work counselling in New York, he’s not leaving as long as Steve needs to be here.

“What if… I mean, how long do we… do we wait?” Steve leans on the doorframe and runs a hand through his hair. “How long is long enough?” He crosses his arms over his chest as though he’s trying to protect himself, doesn’t look at Sam.

“However long it takes.” Sam puts his beer down, then holds his hand out to Steve. When Steve doesn’t move, Sam closes the distance. Gently, he uncrosses Steve’s arms, then steps between them to wrap his own arms around Steve instead. Steve puts his head on Sam’s shoulder and holds onto him. “That’s how long is long enough, Steve. As long as it takes.”

“I don’t want to put your life on hold.” Steve kisses the curve of Sam’s neck.

“Says the guy who spent seventy years in an ice cube,” Sam says, laughing. “I can wait for whatever you think I’m waiting for, Steve. I’ve got everything I want. I talked to Rhodes today, too, when he came to clean up after Tony. He’ll slide us a little info when he can. We’re gonna find Bucky.”

Steve says something into Sam’s shirt that Sam can’t make out.

“What?” Sam nudges Steve’s cheek with his nose. “You can tell me.”

Steve pulls back with a sigh, so that Sam can see his face. He’s flushed and obviously conflicted. “I don’t want to put _my_ life on hold,” he admits. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back for a moment before looking at Sam again. “I can’t believe I said that, it’s terrible, Bucky’s my best friend and I—”

Sam resorts to kissing Steve to shut him up, pushing him back against the doorframe and leaning into him as though Sam could actually keep him there by force.

“You good?” he murmurs, when he lets Steve breathe again. Steve nods slowly. “How about you just say what it is. Remember that honesty thing? ‘Cause it kind of works for us, man.”

“I just want to be with you.” Steve throws his hands up in frustration. “Us, y’know? You, me, the future, bills, laundry…”

“I got all that here if you want it.” Sam shrugs and then kisses Steve more gently this time. His heart does a stutter-step, but he keeps going. “You could just move in for real. All the laundry you can do, seven days a week.”

“Just like that?” Still too easy to forget that Steve’s coming from a whole other century. Of course it’s not necessarily ‘just like that’ in his mind.

“Yeah, just like that.” Sam runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, settling it back into place. “We can get on with life and look for Bucky at the same time, baby. However long it takes, we’ll do it together.”

 


End file.
